


Prompt 5: Sculpture

by TheRighteousMan (FullmetalFlameElric)



Series: Tumblr Prompts [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Implied Destiel - Freeform, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-14
Updated: 2013-05-14
Packaged: 2017-12-11 21:44:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/803581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FullmetalFlameElric/pseuds/TheRighteousMan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel remembers</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prompt 5: Sculpture

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt by Misstrickster
> 
> Prompt: Sculpture

It was a beautiful day. The sun was bright in the sky, making the green of the leaves and grass glow with the aura of new life. A gentle breeze rustles through the tree branches. And all around the campus, the sounds of students, young adults carrying backpacks and mock ups of prototypes weapons scurried from one building to another for their last day of classes.

And at the center of it all, a single figure stood in a trench coat. His blue gaze taking it all in.

Winchester Institute was one of the most prestigious academies for Hunters in the world. It had gotten the title through the Hunters it produced and the work it had shown in the last fifty years that it had been up and running. And to think it had been started by two retiree Hunters in an old school building.

Turning around to face the looming statue behind him, Castiel, angel of the lord, let his gaze rest of the familiar faces he, himself, had sculpted and created. It was he that had taken the time to painstakingly make the clay and wax molds like human artists would. He was the one that had poured the bronze and put it all together to create the dead center of the devil’s trap the school campus layout made. His fingers that had sculpted out every centimeter of memorized skin and familiar muscle. It had pieced together so effortlessly for the first, the second taking a little longer, but coming out just as accurate as the first.

Looking up, blue met the smirking gaze of the Winchester brothers, now long passed on. The founders of the academy. The base of the statue was the impala, Baby’s frame beautifully intact and the familiar license plate of KAZ 2Y5 in it’s proper place. She looked as beautiful as her owner had always kept her. He would have been proud. Against her side on the passenger’s door, Sam Winchester’s figure leaned against the roof of the car, an arm folded and laid over the top as he held one door open, stepping out of the car. At her hood, leaning against the frame like he belonged there, was Dean Winchester, frozen in time and bronze, forever smirking at the world as he had always done.

It had been a gift for them when they’d gotten the grant for their own campus. Castiel remembered the flustered look on Dean’s face when he was shown it the first time.

At the base near the back there was an inscription of “Non timebo mala” scrawled on one side. The two sides had one of a matching set of wings, stretched out as if ready for flight. The front plate holding words familiar to Castiel.

“I remember the most remarkable event. Remarkable because it never came to pass. It was averted by two boys, an old drunk, and a fallen angel. The grand story, and we ripped up the ending and the rules and destiny leaving nothing but freedom and choice.”

Touching his fingertips to the words, Castiel looked up once more, meeting the bronze eyes of Dean’s visage. “...I’m sorry I never said it back...” he whispered, withdrawing his hand and stepping away.

Turning, he made his way down the path, easily walking between students as he headed towards the curb. Beneath him, cast in shadow, was that of a man with a set of black feathered wings slowly folding into behind him, drawing into his shadow and melting from the sun’s detection.

He arrived at the curb and withdrew a key from his pocket, stepping out into the street before unlocking the door and climbing into the car he’d been upkeeping with his grace. After all, he’d made a promise. One he wasn’t going to break.

Turning the key, the impala roared to life, the engine purring happily once more as Castiel switched the car into gear. “...Let’s go home...” he muttered, pulling out onto the street. It wasn’t long until the car had disappeared from sight on campus, though no one noticed. And no one would ever know.


End file.
